We are waiting for tomorrow
But tomorrow never comes,
Our last breath is right now upon our heels
Yet we still refuse to run.
and we are in another day,
All slipping through our fingers
As we look the other way.
Days,weeks, months and years
Are made up of right now,
A string of fleeting moments
That we never can pin down,
We gaze into the future
As though it’s where we are meant to be,
Always planning for that day
When we can say that we are happy.
We spend so much looking forward
That we may as well be blind,
Since we dont see until the very end
All the things we have left behind.
Now I know its just a theory
But I think I have worked out how,
The only way to happiness
Is to love what we have now.